


Consequences

by Molly A (Johnlocked_and_loaded)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Friends to more, Humor, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, Love, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked_and_loaded/pseuds/Molly%20A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot: Consequences<br/>When Sherlock, as always, flagrantly disregards consequences, John gets stroppy. Until Sherlock shows him just how great a few moments without consequences could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequences

“… Yes, I would be willing to offer you quite gainful employment if you were to come work-”  
“Your wife is cheating on you, did you know?” Sherlock glanced up from his phone briefly as he made this deduction of the Chancellor.   
The Chancellor blinked, and then immediately took to sputtering indignantly.  
John and Sherlock had just solved a very open-and-shut case of some stolen jewels for the Chancellor, who was now offering Sherlock a job. Upon rattling off the answers to who the thief was, how the jewels were stolen, and when, Sherlock starting typing away on his cell phone, as usual. John had tried chatting politely to the Chancellor, whom instead was preoccupied with trying to offer an oblivious Sherlock employment.   
“Yes, she’s been sleeping with the butler for a few weeks now, Chancellor,” Sherlock glanced down at the man’s wrist watch, and continued, “Ooh, and your own personal butler. Shame, were you friends?”  
The man was now quite red in the face, and shaking with anger, “You leave my property right now, Mr. Holmes, and don’t ever come back! And forget about being in my employ, you’ll probably just use the position to SLEEP WITH MY WIFE!”  
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the Chancellor, and then went back to typing while stalking dramatically off across the marble floor.   
“Eh, yeah, right, sorry,” John gave an uncomfortable wave as he scurried off after Sherlock.   
“You’re mad at me.” Sherlock stated, still enraptured by his phone.  
“Yes, good, brilliant deduction,” John huffed.   
“Why?”  
John gripped the side of the taxi and yanked the door open as it arrived on Baker Street. “I’ll tell you why, Sherlock-”  
“Please do, that’s what I asked.”  
“-Because you were offered a job, doing what you like,” John continued, ignoring Sherlock and unlocking their door. “Consultive Deducing-”  
“Consultive isn’t a word, John.”  
“AND, don’t forget, getting paid for it,”  
“The man was so pretentious, who would spend more than a few minutes in his presence? Probably the cause of his wife’s infidelity.” Sherlock walked in 221B and immediately flung himself on the couch, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.   
“And you instead chose to insult the man, making him so pissed off that he took the job opportunity away from you.”  
“I don’t need work; I do work for the yard.” Sherlock was full on pouting as John stood over him, fists on his hips. Sherlock thought he looked a bit like a nagging housewife in that pose, but wisely decided to keep that opinion to himself.  
“No, Sherlock, you don’t need work, you need money. And you know how to get money? Work. Not work for the yard, because that doesn’t pay, but maybe work for the Chancellor-”  
“Oh, catching his wife’s cat whenever it ran off? So enthralling.” Sherlock snorted.   
Despite himself, John’s lips twitched. “Was that a double-entendre?”  
Sherlock grinned up at John, “It is now.”  
John giggled before remembering he was mad at Sherlock. “I can’t be the only one pulling my weight for rent here, Sherlock; you need to start thinking about the consequences of your actions.”  
Sherlock tilted his head curiously, and narrowed his eyes slightly at John, inspecting him. John nearly rolled his eyes that Sherlock was deducing what he was saying instead of just listening to him like a normal person. “John, sit down,” He ordered, unwrapping his arms from around his legs and sitting normally on the couch.   
John sat next to him on the couch, “What?”  
“You are frustrated.” Sherlock pointed out flatly.   
“Yes, right.”  
“Because I didn’t pay attention to consequences, correct?”  
“Correct, Sherlock.”  
“Have you considered that you may be frustrated for other reasons?”  
John’s mind flashed to all the dates Sherlock had ruined, and how he hadn’t had sex in over six months, the longest dry spell in his life outside of Afghanistan. “… Well, yes, but right now I’m fru-”  
“I could help you with that frustration, John.”  
John blinked. Swallowed. Bobbed his head a few times, like cracking his neck, but in an incredulous way. Turned back to Sherlock. “What?”  
“I believe you’re frustrated about my disregard of consequences, because you put so much thought into consequences of your own actions. I could teach you how to, on occasion, not consider your consequences.”  
John was a smart man. Not brilliant, but smart. Unfortunately, he was a man, meaning he was struggling to understand Sherlock now that his brain had gotten stuck on sex. “I’m sorry, what?”  
Sherlock huffed, the way he did when John’s mind got preoccupied and couldn’t understand him. “Disregarding consequences, John. What would you do, right now, if you had no consequences to your actions?”  
John sighed, “I don’t know, um… Go quit my job? But I won’t do that because if I-”  
“This exercise is about not thinking about consequences; try not to bring them up. Now really go wild, like you have all the money in the world and there’s no tomorrow.”  
“Buy a yacht, load it with beautiful women, sail the world?” John’s lips twitched.   
“Ah, see, there! You like the idea! See, that’s how I feel all the time! Unleashed from consequence, you could be much happier, John,” Sherlock smiled, bouncing a bit. He knew his point was getting across. “Now imagine more things you would do. What would your life be like?”  
John looked into the middle distance a bit. In his mind’s eye, he wasn’t actually imagining a yacht full of super models. He looked at the fireplace in front of him, and saw a tasteful future. A fire burning bright there, sitting in his armchair, Sherlock coming in from the kitchen with a cup of tea for each of them. The flat was a bit cleaner in his fantasy, but just as cozy. There was a red flannel blanket draped over the back of Sherlock’s chair, and he watched, almost in the third person, as daydream-Sherlock set his own tea down by the chair, and then bent over the armchair to give John a peck on the lips for thanking him.  
John shook his head. It was the idea that got him, that old daydream of a beautiful wife, living together all cozy, sharing a life completely. Maybe the pitter patter of little feet sometime, but right now, just enjoying loving each other and having rings on each other’s fingers. It was never anything he imagined with Sherlock. He didn’t think about a future with Sherlock a lot, he considered their life together a stepping stone; a thrilling detective story to be told to his children when he moved out of Baker Street and lived in a house with his family.   
He didn’t consider Sherlock to be a permanent fixture, but thinking about it now…   
Would he be happy? If he found this perfect, faceless dream woman, and settled down? Would he immediately settle into taking the girls to ballet and the boys to soccer? Not miss the chase, the sweat, a gun pressed to his back, and most of all, Sherlock at his side?   
Could he really live without that?  
So John took a minute, to forget that home-body daydream, and imagine instead a life like this, for the rest of it. Of going on chases with Sherlock like he was now, but Sherlock filling the void of that generic wife. Of coming home, laughing and panting with Sherlock, collapsing on a shared bed after showers, still giggling about the adventure. About kissing, loving, about sharing his life and his everything with just one other person. To be honest with himself, Sherlock somewhat occupied that space already. Who else could he meet that would bring him such excitement, such joy, such color in his drab, tea-drenched, wool-jumper life? Someone who would pick apart Richard Hammond’s marriage as the watched Top Gear, instead of blandly agreeing with John’s opinion on cars? Who would challenge him, every day, and who would call him an idiot instead of saying, “you look lovely, dear”?  
Was his ideal future really so… complacent? So drab? So routine and average and without even a few seconds of fame? He was questioning now why he had yearned so for a life like everyone else’s. To go to work with a sandwich made by a competent but unremarkable wife, to diagnose runny noses and freeze warts all day, to come home to sticky children who would grow to be snotty teenagers, and accompanied only by a hollow woman who probably hated him.  
“…John?”  
John whipped his head around to look at Sherlock. “Mm?”  
“You looked sad.” Sherlock stated cautiously.   
“My whole fantasy future kind of just came crashing around my ears.” John grinned at him.  
“Oh,” Sherlock looked perplexed. “Because of not thinking about consequences?”  
“That sort of sparked it, yeah,” John couldn’t stop smiling. He felt so freed.   
“… Are you going to act as if there are no consequences more often now?”  
John pulled his lips down until they were a close-lipped smile and bobbed his head happily.   
“Oh, well, goo-“Sherlock was cut off by John closing the space between them and kissing him.   
John pulled back to look at Sherlock, delight sparkling in his eyes, a bright fireplace future dancing in his head.   
“That was, ah… John?” Sherlock Holmes was at a loss for words, for once.  
“Decided to disregard consequences,” John said. Something flickered in his eyes and his stomach dropped as he watched Sherlock’s bewildered face. He suddenly realized that living without consequences had, well, consequences. Now he had to face the fact that, although he had his perfect life now charted in his head, Sherlock may not agree. In fact, it was starting to look like Sherlock wasn’t even agreeing with the present.   
John pulled back over to his side of the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his face with his hands. He lifted his head up, dragging his hands along his face as he did. “Oh god, Sherlock, I’m sorry. I just, I- I’m going to go, ah, out for a walk, I’m –”  
He was interrupted by Sherlock placing his hands on either side of John’s face, and slowly turning him to look into his eyes. “John, I… I didn’t know you felt this way.”  
John was wary. Sherlock seemed like he was looking at him tenderly, and his middle finger stroking just behind his ear (John was sure it was meant to be romantic, but it was actually a little bit ticklish) certainly made it seem like Sherlock had wanted the kiss. But that tender look could be pity; like that look he’d gotten so many times when they said, “Oh, John, you’re so sweet. But I’m dating the captain of the soccer team, sorry.”  
“Sherlock, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to force you into anything. I just… Could we forget this, and just stay living together, as friends?” John pictured a little man in his head, scurrying around trying to pick up little shards of his Life-With-Sherlock fantasy.   
“No, John, we can’t.” Sherlock said definitively.   
They little man in John’s head dropped the shards and yelled at the ceiling.   
“Because I’ve been waiting for that kiss for quite a long time, and I’m not going to let your stupid overthinking ruin it.”  
Wait, what? The little man was now quite confused, unsure as to whether he should get super glue and start picking up the pieces of the fantasy, or if he should stomp on them. “I’m… sorry, what?”  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Yes, I like you , yes I want to be in a relationship with you, no, I’m not asexual, yes, I’m a virgin, how long must I go on answering the questions in your head before you believe me that I want this?”  
John pulled his lips between his teeth. “I don’t remember mentally asking if you were a virgin, but you are, you would be my first one.”  
Sherlock huffed a breath out, “I just told you I was.”   
John jumped out of Sherlock’s grasp. He ran to the kitchen, and before Sherlock could start questioning his decision, John was back with a coffee mug, a large beaker, and the cheap wine he’d bought for any woman he was lucky enough to bring back to the apartment. “Sorry, wine glasses are dirty after that eyeball experiment.”  
Sherlock smiled, and helped John pour two gracious helpings of wine into the respective containers. “It’s two in the afternoon, John.”  
John grinned, not caring from up on his perch in Cloud Nine, “Live a little.”  
He held his glass up to Sherlock, “To life without consequences,”  
“To life without consequences,” Sherlock repeated obediently.   
The both took generous sips, and set their glasses down, smiling the whole time.  
*Epilogue*  
“John?”  
“Yes?”  
“How do you feel about… Great Danes?”  
“…. Why?”  
“I’ve just ordered one, it’s to be shipped from America.”  
“Don’t tell me I’ve heard what I just think I’ve heard.”  
“I think a dog could keep me from getting bored between cases, John.”  
“Surely you can’t be serious?”  
“I am serious, and please don’t call me Shirley.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading, this is my first work in the Sherlock fandom. I look forward to making more fanworks for you. This work is also available on my Tumblr (http://johnlocked-and-loaded.tumblr.com/post/70217087430/sherlock-fanfiction-consequences). Love, Molly A


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